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Sleep was for the weak. Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way, it was not for Albedo, who slipped and slid through the days with random bouts of unconsciousness. Nights added amusements at times, and when they didn't, well--
He could always watch Max sleep.
Iggy slept elsewhere, but Albedo, allowed in the room she had taken, had no reason not to watch. Her feathers shifted as she breathed, and more than once he found himself finding the urge to trail a finger along the slip of feathers.
Tonight, however, was not like that. Max was out for something Albedo hadn't found the time to ask what, and by the time evening came around, the weight of exhaustion was finally finding its way through his bones. There was little sleep he needed, but he did need it. Unthinking, he crept toward comfort, curled in a place that held the scent of security.
That is to say, he was curled asleep on Max's bed when she returned, hugging her pillow like a stalker.
He could always watch Max sleep.
Iggy slept elsewhere, but Albedo, allowed in the room she had taken, had no reason not to watch. Her feathers shifted as she breathed, and more than once he found himself finding the urge to trail a finger along the slip of feathers.
Tonight, however, was not like that. Max was out for something Albedo hadn't found the time to ask what, and by the time evening came around, the weight of exhaustion was finally finding its way through his bones. There was little sleep he needed, but he did need it. Unthinking, he crept toward comfort, curled in a place that held the scent of security.
That is to say, he was curled asleep on Max's bed when she returned, hugging her pillow like a stalker.
